


Trampoline

by LetMeEntertainYou



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: M/M, brocas aphasia, old queen - Freeform, stroke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-29 12:30:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19019974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetMeEntertainYou/pseuds/LetMeEntertainYou
Summary: “Shall we try again? We’ll do something easy. Like your name. Roger Taylor. Can you try and say that back to me?” The therapist said, trying to find the note card with Roger’s name printed on it.“Marger Teel,” he repeated back, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. When he heard what he said, he nearly cried. He knew all the words in his head. He could hear them clearly. But the moment he opened his mouth, it was like his brain short circuited. His mouth ended up making these horrible noises that weren’t even words or sometimes simply the wrong word. He kept calling Brian, trampoline. Fucking trampoline!!





	Trampoline

**Author's Note:**

> My blog is Disabled-Queen-HC on tumblr.  
> Anon asked: Inspired by the ficlet about roger with his stutter, how about any of the lads having Broca's aphasia after a stroke?

Roger wanted to pull at the little bit of hair he had left. He was furious. Upset. Angry. Exasperated. Cross. Vexed. All the words in the dictionary he couldn’t say. All the words he couldn’t read or write either.

His speech therapist frowned, head tilting. “Mr. Taylor. It’s fine. This is very normal of someone recovering from a stroke. Nobody expects you to heal over night,”

Roger rolled his eyes, slouching in his chair. Normal? This was normal? Not being able to speak a coherent sentence? Unable to read your own name at nearly seventy years old? Was this old age? Was this all he had to look forward to?

“Shall we try again? We’ll do something easy. Like your name. Roger Taylor. Can you try and say that back to me?” The therapist said, trying to find the note card with Roger’s name printed on it. 

“Marger Teel,” he repeated back, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. When he heard what he said, he nearly cried. He knew all the words in his head. He could hear them clearly. But the moment he opened his mouth, it was like his brain short circuited. His mouth ended up making these horrible noises that weren’t even words or sometimes simply the wrong word. He kept calling Brian, trampoline. Fucking trampoline!! 

He didn’t even want to get started on reading. The card with his name on it didn’t look familiar at all. It looked like scribbles. Something a child wrote rather than an actual word or phrase. 

The therapist rested his hand against Roger’s, a soft smile on his face. “Mr, Taylor, you’ve made improvements whether you realize it or not. You couldn’t make the ‘R’ sound until last week. I’m quite proud of you. But how about we call it a day? Same time this upcoming thursday, alright?”

Roger waved him off, more annoyed with himself than the speech therapist. He was never good at controlling his anger or pointing it at the right person. 

The therapist packed up and exited Roger’s kitchen, stopping to have a brief conversation with Brian who was waiting outside. Once he was gone, Brian stepped in, taking a seat next to Roger who barely looked at him.

“Somebody told me you were being a grumpy ‘lil thing all session,” Brian said, a weak attempt at cheering Roger up. Roger scowled at his husband, crossing his arms. 

“Oh, Roger, love. I’d so love it if you stopped being so angry with yourself. You had a stroke for crying out loud. Your brain is going to need so much time to rewire itself and recover. I know you’re rarely ever easy on yourself, but I really wish you would be right now,” Brian said, grabbing ahold of one of Roger’s wrinkled hands, kissing his knuckle. 

Brian didn’t understand. Roger prided himself in his intellect. And luckily, while none of it disappeared due to the stroke, it sure looked like it. He was babbling like a baby for fucks sake! Couldn’t read a children’s book if you paid him. He felt so stupid, so humiliated.  _So old_. Not to mention they were all still reeling from his stroke. His heart hadn’t stopped pounding from the moment half his face went numb.

Brian’s face softened, a hand going to smooth back Roger’s hair, trailing down to cradle his cheek.

“You know I don’t think anything less of you, right? You’re still my beautiful husband, sharp as a whip,”

Roger hated it, but he was easing up a bit. Even after all these years, Brian could sweet talk him. Those puppy eyes of his never faltered. 

“Trampoline,” was Roger’s only reply. It was the only somewhat intelligible thing he could express at the moment. 

Brian grinned. “Yes, Rog?”

Roger pretended it wasn’t a big deal when he pointed to his heart, his palm clasping over it.  _I love you._

“I love you so much more,” Brian said, pressing their lips together. Roger pulled away with a giggle. Brian was happy he seemed a bit more chipper than he was moments ago.

“Come, come. Let’s leave all this therapy stuff and go watch some movies. You fell asleep before we could finish watching Guardians of the Galaxy last night!” Brian said as he helped Roger up to his feet, holding his hand as he guided him to the living room. On most occasions, he’d suggest Roger drum it out, but he was still rather fragile from it all. Which meant action movie marathons was their next best bet.

Roger went coy at Brian’s comment, embarrassed about his lack of energy these days. Not that Brian minded. And not that Roger felt that he did. 

The two cuddled up on the couch, Brian clicking at the remote, bifocals on to see all the little buttons. Roger snuggled up to Brian’s side, arms wrapping around him.

It was going to be a very long journey to recovery, he knew that. He knew he’d be upset most days. He knew it could be a year before he could talk normally again. But as long as he has his  ~~Trampoline~~  Brian on his side, he felt confident that he’d make it through all right.

 

 


End file.
